1. Can you get the Kiva to lower the interest rates?
This is probably the most frequent question I get asked by borrowers on the field. As many of you know, the MFI sets its interest rates by taking into account current rates plus their cost of funding, loan products, term and size of their loan offerings, etc. (I will not get further into this as many of the Kiva Fellows have blogged extensively about interest rates on the fellows blog, some good examples out of many with relevant commentary being here and here). Kiva as a non for profit partner institution does not set or influence that rate, and therefore its is up to the MFI to determine their rates accordingly and appropriately. In addition to this response, I mention that borrowers should feel free to talk with their Center Managers, or file their concerns / grievances formally to the MFI so that the issue can be dealt with according to SPBD’s grievance process.

2. Then can you get the MFI to lower their interest rates?
This one is similar to the above question, except sometimes borrowers believe that Kiva has influence on the MFI to change the interest rates. Kiva maintains a partnership with the MFIs they work with but has no governance over them. In this case the best thing I advise is for the center to be empowered to talk to their Center Mangers in order to promote formal dialogue with the MFI.

3. Kiva is a bank, isn’t it?
This was one of my very first questions when going out to visit clients. Kiva is not a bank. It doesn’t hold money, or facilitate the transfer of money. Rather, the money is collected from lenders via Pay Pal and transferred to the MFI to disseminate after the posted loans have been funded. Kiva provides the platform to facilitate peer to peer lending between generous lenders and happy entrepreneurs around the world via the established MFI partner.

4. Can’t Kiva lend to us directly?
In a perfect world it would be great if we could facilitate one to one lending, cut out the red tape and go straight to the people, right? But its really not so simple. The partner MFI understands their individual clients needs and capabilities, as well as the lending culture and climate on the ground. They can facilitate the screening and dissemination process, monitor and follow up on the repayment process, and keep accurate records and MIS of each transaction. Additionally, as Kiva is not a bank, getting and moving the source of funds to different global recipients in various currencies, and dealing with multiple Central Banks would be incredibly difficult for Kiva to undertake.  So unfortunately, this is something that the current Kiva platform is unable to do.

5. ‘Ua e fa’aipoipo? (Are you married?)
This is probably the most frequent and hardest question to dodge, and I’ve had to politely and creatively try not to become betrothed to one of my center ladies sons or grandsons. My usual response is “Leai” followed by a shy smile.

So, why do I post these questions and answers? In part to show that borrowers are conscious of what they are getting into, that they are taking the opportunity to ask questions, that they are even more so conscious of what Kiva is and can or cannot do, and to entreat some fellows to share their experiences meeting borrowers out in the field (and to help correct me if I’ve stated something wrong!)! Its been great fun getting to know the ladies of the SPBD centers, and to see them really be engaged in the microloan process. I’ve enjoyed fielding their questions… And maybe if I plan to stay longer, I’ll have a different response to question # 5!

Comments, Questions, your own anecdotes from the field?

And don’t forget to support these lovely ladies by becoming a lender on Kiva today!

Tamara Crawford is a Kiva Fellow, located in Apia, Samoa, and volunteering with the South Pacific Business Development. She’s been enjoying mango season and talking to borrowers about their various business ventures.

“If we imagine a world where every human being is a potential entrepreneur, we’ll build a system to give everybody a chance to materialize his or her potential. The heavy wall between the ‘entrepreneur’ and ‘labor’ will be meaningless. If labor had access to capital, this world would be very different from what we have now.” – Mohammed Yunus

Pretty powerful image isn’t it? Just take a moment if you will to imagine a scenario or two – a woman from a village selling her handicrafts in the market comes home from a long wearisome day. She’s lovingly greeted by her children who have all just come home from school, still wearing their uniforms and they sit together around a table, ready to eat the food their mother was able to afford to bring home. Or how about the young man who comes home from a long day driving taxis, managing a fleet that only a year ago seemed like a dream but is now helping him care for his elderly parents, wife, and children as the sole breadwinner. Can you imagine it? Can you taste it? The sweat in the hot sun streaming down your face, as you tend your field that was once a small patch and is now a sprawling plantation? Or how about the dust in the air as you sweep the shop clean of the overnight soot that settled – a shop that without the microloan, you couldn’t stock?  Imagine a world full of entrepreneurs, working tirelessly to materialize their ideas, being successful. Isn’t it what makes microfinance attractive to most of us? Or is it? I’ve been a little over a month into my fellowship here in Samoa and during that time , I have been going out to meet borrowers in their villages and starting to see how loans are being used.

During one visit, one lady who had just finished paying off her last loan requested to apply for a loan to help pay her son’s tuition fee. This woman owns a small store that is generating some profit, but still needs the money to pay for her kids to go to school. So it had me questioning – are microfinance borrowers actually “borrowers” or are they “entrepreneurs”? Or are they both? Is this a misleading label or is it a hopeful one?

I think this debate goes back to the purpose of microfinance. As we learned in Kiva Fellows training, and especially the UNDL Microfinance course, microfinance is a tool to give those in disadvantaged situations the ability to have access to credit where they otherwise would not.  If we look at CGAP’s definition, it goes even further:

“Microfinance offers poor people access to basic financial services such as loans, savings, money transfer services and microinsurance. People living in poverty, like everyone else, need a diverse range of financial services to run their businesses, build assets, smooth consumption, and manage risks.”

So back to the question – What is microfinance for? What is it supposed to be doing? Are borrowers just borrowers looking for access to financial services, or are they solely entrepreneurs? After training and being on the ground, I see that sometimes businesses are being built slowly and cautiously; that people are learning to save; that people need loans to buy cars and pay fees and obligations to society just like everyone else; that not all business will survive and provide income. I believe while we all want to see the people who borrow money use it for entrepreneurial pursuits, I think we need to realize the reality is such that sometimes people just need money as an income smoothing tool in order to continue surviving and moving forward rather than sliding backwards into poverty or taking capital out of their income generating structures. For example, say if that same woman had sold her car that she could use to transport goods to the market in order to generate the required cash for her son’s tuition, she would be pulling from her income generating resources and I can’t see how that would help her or her future generations. How about in the wake of natural disasters or a poor economy where life still goes on, school fees still need to be paid, rent is still assessed?

I think as a globally enterprising society largely based on capitalistic values, we would like to think that everyone in the developing world who pulls out a loan is doing so in the spirit of a business venture – and its true that there are many who do. But I feel its also important for us to remember those who need the access to credit just like the rest of us do. Microfinance is helping those people to empower themselves and prevent a backward slide into poverty. So whichever label one chooses – borrower or entrepreneur or both – what I have found thus far is that microfinance is a valuable tool… and how great is it to see that in action?!

So, what are your thoughts / opinions? Tell me!
And whichever they are, you’d be of great assistance either way by lending on Kiva or applying to be a Kiva Fellow!

Tamara Crawford is a Kiva Fellow working with the South Pacific Business Development located in Apia, Samoa. She’s enjoying drinking niu, walking to work along Apia harbor, and learning useful Samoan phrases to use on the field.

Yesterday was my first day in Samoa having arrived in Apia at 5am in the morning from a 20 hour journey. I can’t complain as it wasn’t an uncomfortable journey, just a bit longer than I am used to. Yet, arriving under the cover of night, it still hadn’t hit me how far I had traveled; even with the Samoan folk band serenading us with traditional Samoan songs at the airport as we went through customs and collected our luggage, nor when I was greeted with a lei and ushered into the hotel van to take me to my temporary accommodation.  But it was when, as we were driving along, the sun began to rise and the sky began to lighten into a soft light blue and pink, and from the brush of trees that lined the narrow two lane, two way road from the airport into town, out peaked the vast blue ocean, its silvery blue waves a mirror to the morning sky and a testament to a new day calling life to the sleepy island.

I watched as people awoke from their fale, having slept under the cover of stars, the beauty of the homes that lined the beach, painted in multiple hues with neatly manicured lawns. I saw as sleepy children in their neatly pressed uniforms waited outside for the local bus to take them to school, some with the family dog guarding them until they were collected and safely on their way. I listened to roosters’ crow their morning alarms, and saw wild boars graze by the road side along with mother hens and their little chicks. Such life and beauty welcomed me to this new island, this new home for the next four months, and I watched attentively and breathed it all in. It was hard to imagine that just a year ago, a massive tsunami destroyed this beautiful shoreline, and I completely admired the country’s ability to rebuild and work to get back on its feet.

And then I witnessed the funniest thing – a little hen jump onto the back of a dog to catch a ride to the other side of the road. Well now, we know chickens want to get to the other side (answer to the above question for those of you who didn’t know), but what an amazing use of resources! More power to the chicken! And with that I start off my adventure in Samoa. I look forward to working with the team at the South Pacific Business Development, meeting borrowers out in the field and witnessing microfinance in action, taking in so much of Samoan life and culture, and hopefully to see more nifty wildlife resourcefulness. Talofa Lava Samoa!

Its easy – Become a lender on Kiva today!

Tamara Crawford is a Kiva Fellow working with the South Pacific Business Development located in Apia, Samoa. So far she enjoys eating breadfruit and chicken stewed in taro leaves, and is hoping that the poor little resourceful hen didn’t become her lunch afterall.

The western concept of “private property” does not exist in the communal village life of Samoa. In a traditional Samoan village, many generations of a family live together where food and material items are shared among everyone.

The famous blowholes of Savaii are a major tourist attraction and revenue stream for the village of Taga. The collective village owns the blowholes so a different chief or “matai” collects the proceeds each week. This way, the entire village benefits from the tourist revenue.

When funding a Kiva loan in Samoa, it is likely that you are providing economic opportunity that will benefit an entire family and not just an individual. Whether the loan is used to purchase fishing nets, plant taro or open a roadside stand, the borrower’s children, parents, and other relatives will benefit as the profits will translate into more money for the collective family.

The concept of collective property also has some potentially severe downsides, both to the individual borrower and their family. The individual borrower, who with much personal effort and sacrifice is able to start a successful business, may not have much control over where her profits go. The flip side is that if a woman is unable to make her loan payments, the loan becomes a burden on her entire family.

With the traditional family values of Western Samoa, villages and entire families both reap the rewards and share the risks of taking on debt.

Click here to Sponsor a loan today!

Nate Walsh is a Kiva Fellow in Apia, Samoa. He is volunteering with the South Pacific Business Development Foundation (SPBD)

In the spirit of Dunkin’ Donuts vs. Krispy Kreme, a fierce donut competition is raging on a small street in tropical Samoa.

Lina shows off her two new donut ovens

Meet Lina Elisaia, donut entrepreneur and grandmother of 3. With a 1,000 Tala microloan (roughly $400 USD), Lina opened a donut bakery and shop in her front yard only to have her neighbor open a rival donut shop one month later. Waking up at 4am, Lina sells between 200-300 jam covered donuts a morning for 20 Sene or roughly .08 USD per donut.

As the sole breadwinner for her family of 5, Lina is wholly committed to dominating her village’s donut market. To keep her loyal customers, Lina is now making larger, sweeter donuts and hired her nephew to help with the baking.

A serial entrepreneur, Lina is using her profits to diversify and open a vegetable stand. Growing a garden also has its difficulties however, as wild pigs and chickens devour anything that is not protected by barbed wire.  Planting a garden has dual benefits as vegetables are easy to sell in the village and her family will enjoy a more balanced diet.

Lina is currently paying back her first 52 week loan as quickly as possible so that she can get another, larger loan. With a strong entrepreneurial spirit and a bit of luck, Lina is using a few small loans to create a better quality of life for her family.

Click here to Sponsor a loan today!

Nate Walsh is a Kiva Fellow in Apia, Samoa.  He is volunteering with the South Pacific Business Development Foundation (SPBD)

Cooked taro (from polynesiankitchen.blogspot.com)

By Agnes Chu, KF9, Samoa

They say that one of the best ways to learn about a culture is through its food.   If that is true, then Samoa should be investigated through taro.  Taro is king in Samoa and in Polynesia.  It is to Samoans what the potato is to the Irish, what rice is to Asians, what pork is to Puerto Ricans; it is loved, revered, and consumed en mass.  The Samoan word for taro (talo) is remarkably similar to the Samoan word for money (tala).  You may have noticed that most of SPBD’s businesses listed on Kiva are in the agriculture sector and almost every one of those grows taro.  One woman laughed when I asked her about competition, “Every one may grow taro but every one eats taro!  Good thing!”

What is unique about taro as a staple is that, unlike rice or potatoes, there really is no variation on it in the Samoan diet.  There is no creamed taro, no mashed taro and gravy, no taro fries (odd considering the love of fried food in Samoa).  It is served usually in two ways:  boiled or baked in an umu (earth oven).  But most Samoans will say that their favourite food is taro—a plain, boiled taro.  This causes confusion among palagi (foreigners or “from heaven”, literally translated) who try taro for the first time.  To the unaccustomed tongue, it is ultra-starchy, thick, and seemingly tasteless.  You stare at the light purple block in dismay and think I just ate a chunk, which will probably take forever to digest, and now I have to eat the whole brick. Ironically, this quality is also what Samoans love about taro.  Jack, a staff member at SPBD, says “You can eat a taro and feel full.  It is a meal.”

I struggled to understand the attractiveness of the taro, but it kinda grows on you.  It’s good dipped in coconut cream.  Perhaps it’s the kind of thing you have to grow up eating to enjoy.  A friend from Puerto Rico compared taro (and I reacted with my jaw hanging) to food for kings, from heaven.  My mom who grew up in China asked, “Isn’t it delicious?  So much better than a potato.” I suppose.  But then she reminded me of the Chinese taro cake served in dim sum, which I absolutely love.  And I do love taro drinks.  Taro has a subtle flavor which is amazing when it’s combined with other foods.  I wikipediaed taro and was surprised to find that it’s cooked around the world, in India, Brazil, Japan, Turkey, West Africa, basically any place with a tropical climate (needs lots of water and lots of sun).  Taro can be cooked into a curry, fried into chips, filled into spring rolls, or used for medicinal purposes.

The plain-served taro is representative of traditional Samoan diet and perhaps way of life.  Samoan foods are usually served au naturel, no spices save salt, and not really prepared or cooked with other ingredients.  Coco is consumed essentially raw and not processed into chocolate.  Pork is consumed as simply a cut of meat.  And why wouldn’t you when the pigs are fresh and the ensuing meat is tender?  There are a few key items served for most meals which are:  taro, coconut cream, plantains, SPAM, tinned fish, and mutton flaps/chicken thighs or legs.  Samoa is known for its homogeneity.

Ironically, it is the taro which diversified Samoa’s economy…a bit.  Before the taro blight in 1994 that destroyed taro plants, Samoa’s sole exports were taro and coconut cream.  Forced to consider alternatives, Samoa now exports copra (dried coconut meat), fish, nonu, and a range of coconut products outside the cream.  But unfortunately, the export business never really recovered and most of the taro grown is eaten locally.

To view more pictures of taro being grown in a plantation, please visit here.

*Note:  Ah, what began as a quick two-paragraph explanation on taro turned into a whole essay on it.  Sorry for that.  And also, apologies if I’ve offended anybody with my frank opinion of taro.  I’m still trying to love it!  Not as a side dish cooked together with things, but in its natural state, boiled.  Please please feel free to post if you have any disagreements or comments about taro.  I’m open to suggestions!  Meanwhile, here is an excellent recipe for coconut taro tapioca soup, which is a classic Chinese dessert.  It is remarkably similar to a Samoan dish, but that recipe involves intricate stuff such as scraping the gel from a niu (baby) coconut.  Oh, the luxuries of fresh ingredients in Samoa.

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Agnes Chu served as a Kiva Fellow with South Pacific Business Development (SPBD) in Samoa.   To view fundraising loans from SPBD on Kiva, click here. You can receive updates on SPBD by joining SPBD’s lending team on Kiva.  Only 8 more people to reach the 50 member mark!

Posted in blogsherpa, KF9 (Kiva Fellows 9th Class), Samoa, South Pacific Business Development (SPBD) Tagged: Agnes Chu, food, plantation, Samoa, taro ]]> http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2009/12/20/taro-the-story-of-a-starchy-potato/feed/ 10 agneschu 1191136463 http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2009/12/08/kiva-love-machine-leads-to-visiting-samoa/ http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2009/12/08/kiva-love-machine-leads-to-visiting-samoa/#comments Tue, 08 Dec 2009 16:41:40 +0000 ALEX http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/?p=9773 ]]> By Alex Duong, KF9, Vietnam

I’m going to let you in on a secret: Kiva is one big hunk of love.  Understanding the phrase ‘Kiva love machine’ sheds light on what motivates the work of Kiva fellows everyday.  Why does Rebecca Corey rise at 5:30AM to catch the bus to work?  Why does Thomas Gold risk driving in deathly traffic?  Read on to learn about the bond that unites fellows.

‘Kiva love machine’ exists and spreads because Kiva is about connecting people.  It is infectious and most powerfully displayed through the generosity of everyday lenders.  For those lucky enough to become a fellow, it is also the love and affection shown from the moment training begins in San Francisco.

Case in point: In gearing up for the Kiva fellowship, I found it necessary to clear the mind for fresh perspectives.  This meant hanging up the career suit, leaving friends and family, and finding time for reflection.  And so I left for the most remote metropolitan in the world.  Actually, the answer is Perth in West Australia where there are three cousins whom I have never visited.  Sydney is the closest neighbor via five hours by plane (flying Los Angeles to New York is six hours).

Realizing Kiva fellow Agnes Chu was stationed along the way in Samoa, I made it a point to visit.  The ability for two fellows to relate is unmatched.  It is akin to explaining fraternity/sorority life: a true mental picture is hard to develop unless you are American.  The underlying unity thread for Kiva fellows is that they are uniquely situated to facilitate communication amongst lenders, borrowers, Kiva, and the local microfinance organization.  Though I had not officially started, this common bond allowed Agnes and I to team up and find answers to some elusive goals Agnes wanted to achieve.  Hearing about her challenges firsthand was equally invaluable in helping preparing for Vietnam.  Flying over one-quarter of the world to visit someone you met for a week at training is not on the typical list of reasons to fly.  This, however, is just one event that demonstrates the depth that ‘Kiva love machine’ can bring forth.

In Samoa, I followed Agnes, Kiva’s Samoan partner SPBD, and Mercy Corps volunteers as they distributed aid and clean up supplies to tsunami victims.  Agnes has already provided great tsunami coverage here so I will spare the repeat.  However, one look in victims’ eyes was all you needed to understand the tragedy that occurred.  Some were willing to share their stories but just as many wanted to move forward and never again recall the event.

Shortly following Samoa it occurred to me SPBD operates in a dramatically different environment than TYM Vietnam where I will be working.  Kiva partners are indispensable because they understand local terrain and how to best allocate limited resources.  Nobody (nor organization) is perfect but behind the logos and names lie people dedicated to doing the right thing.  It is not uncommon for loan officers to literally spend the night in a branch office far from the comforts of home.

Blessed is the opportunity to become a Kiva fellow and experience firsthand this  young microfinance industry.  It is easy to be in the comforts of home and criticize Kiva for lack of full transparency.  Sure Kiva COULD do more but adequate disclosure is often a judgment call.  Fannie & Freddie Mac disclosed what even financial auditors considered adequate and yet became a prime factor in the financial storm.  But this isn’t the point.  Look into the eyes of a Samoan who saw 14 family members wash away in the tsunami and tell them to wait a bit longer for loan disbursement because of a small holdup in San Francisco.  As stated earlier by Victoria Kabak, in this industry every bit counts.  During such times, it becomes important to recall lending is an act we make with our hearts rather than our minds.  And just this one time that is probably okay.

Kiva fellows Agnes Chu & Alex Duong soaking in Samoa

Alex Duong is the first Kiva Fellow (KF9) working with TYM Fund in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Click the links for info on TYM Fund & my personal blog

Village sign sponsored by Western Union

By Agnes Chu

In 2007, out of all the countries in the world, Samoa received the 7th highest amount of remittances as a percentage of GDP (22.8%).  The following is a look at remittances in Samoa, part two of a three part series on remittances in developing countries.  Part one,  which is Rob’s excellent post on remittances in Kyrgyzstan, was posted earlier today.

Samoa could be sponsored by Western Union. At least, the Western Union logo is everywhere. Even some of the name signs for villages are produced by Western Union. Nearly every Samoan family uses Western Union—most travel for hours to the capital, Apia, weekly to receive money from family members overseas. Out of all the countries in the world, Samoa receives the 8th highest amount of remittances per capita.1 During my two months in Samoa, I have been astounded by the large role that remittances play in the Samoan economy. Why are Samoans so dependent on remittances? What does this spell for life in Samoa? And is this healthy?? The following is my attempt to answer those questions. Please be aware that it is based off my observations and conversations with the select Samoans and is not scientific in any way.

Paradise is expensive. Though it promises a simple, slow life, once it is touched by modernization, an island must import most of the manufactured goods it consumes: food, toiletries, electricity, everything. Samoa has a large trade deficit. It imports cheaper goods (junk food, fatty mutton flaps from New Zealand, and 99-cents-mart quality goods from China—the ones that break or would perhaps give you lead poisoning) that are sold expensively at US prices. In turn, Samoa exports little, but mostly agricultural products such as coconut oil or taro. There are few factories or commercial ventures that offer wage jobs. For this reason, many Samoans migrate to New Zealand, Australia, or the United States to work in blue-collar jobs. In fact, New Zealand has a program where Samoans can work temporarily in New Zealand’s orchard farms for 7 months out of the year. I have yet to meet a family in Samoa, poor or wealthy, who do not have a close relative or a few working abroad. It is not uncommon for some Samoan families to be unemployed and waiting for their relatives abroad to send money back.

Recently, the global recession and increased cost of oil have significantly raised the cost of living in Samoa, because Samoa is hit by the double-whammy of higher good prices and a higher cost of transportation—imagine the cost of shipping goods to a remote island. It has gotten so bad that my landlord complains, “Nowadays in Samoa, it is expected to pay even your relatives for any help or work. Everybody needs money. People have no shame in asking.” (This explains why Samoa’s culture excludes volunteering.) However, most Samoans do not live in extreme poverty. In fact, the UN changed its classification of Samoa from a Least Developing Country to a Medium Developing Country this year. Most Samoans are housed (they do not need to pay rent, because the land is owned by the village and they live in family compounds) and natural food is in abundance (papayas grow wild here. Oh!) For a more detailed discussion on poverty in Samoa, Athan Makansi, the past Kiva Fellow, has a very good Kiva Fellows blog post on the topic.

So what are remittances or free spending money being spent on, if not for the most basic needs? In normal times, a large chunk of a typical Samoan’s budget goes to family obligations or ceremonies, such as weddings or funerals. But since the tsunami, which hit Samoa on Sept. 29, 2009 and devastated over 600 homes, remittances have proven to be an indispensable shock cushion. Most Samoans affected by the tsunami are scraping by now, because each has relatives abroad sending money—sometimes, it’s very little, but even so, it helps. Some Samoans have relatives who have come back for a couple of months to help out. Wellie, a Samoan from Utah, flew back to Samoa and paid his relatives to rebuild part of a seawall to protect them from the cyclone season. I have met a man who quit his job in New Zealand to be with his family and help rebuild their house.

Though remittances have benefited Samoa by bringing in additional outside money (balancing some of the trade deficit and expanding the pie, per Rob’s analogy) and they are certainly more reliable than foreign aid, I cannot help but worry if this dependency of remittances is healthy for Samoa. Remittances cannot remove the structural constraints to economic growth. 1 The structural constraints in Samoa are a lack of good jobs, financial infrastructure, healthcare (many Samoans have diabetes and heart disease from their habits of eating junk food), and college-level education. Interestingly enough, Samoa has one of the lowest percentages of college-level educated emigrants out of all countries, developed or developing. Around 20% of most developing countries’ emigrants are college-educated, but only 9% of Samoa’s emigrants have a tertiary-level of education. This is confounding, because 99% of Samoa is literate. Almost all of SPBD’s clients’ children under 18 attend school, but they’re not attending university. I have asked around and gotten different answers. Some clients say that it is too expensive to send their children to university (It costs 1,200 talas, equivalent to the purchasing power of $960 US1, per semester, a mite expensive, but not unaffordable considering that the average salary in Samoa is ~8,000 talas per year); some say that it’s hard to get their grades high enough to qualify; others say that Samoans are simply not motivated to study and go to college—they or their parents would rather them work to earn money immediately.

It is sometimes tough being Samoan. Samoan culture is based upon family, and as we all know, this can be both a blessing and a headache. Fa’a Samoa, or the Samoan way, dictates that most of ones’ income should be given to the family and family events, along with church donations, are probably the main expenditure of most Samoans. Remittances help generate this additional income for families. It helps bring in money from outside of Samoa to pay for their imports from New Zealand and China. Though some people in America may look at Western Union as an evil corporate giant, Western Union has done some good things in Samoa, such as encouraging clean villages by sponsoring an annual “Prettiest Village in Samoa” contest, which is very competitive in Samoa. They provide permanent trashcans to store trash in. Remittances have benefited Samoans in many ways.

Citations:
1. Klugman, Jenny. 2009. “Overcoming Barriers: Human mobility and development.” Human Development Report, 2009. New York City, United Nations Development Programme.

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You can lend to entrepreneurs in Samoa!  Please visit this link to SPBD’s loans on Kiva. To receive regular updates on SPBD and Samoa, please join SPBD’s lending team.  Help us reach the 50 member mark by December!

Since the infamous earthquake that caused the tsunami in Samoa on Sept. 29, there have been three more earthquakes felt here. They are minor but no less nerve-wracking. As the ground jolts for a few seconds, people, including senior management, rush out of the office and some stay in the hills for the night. When a harmless earthquake struck near Vanuatu, an island 1,400 miles away, Apia was evacuated for a couple of hours; tsunami drills are certain to be a fixture in Samoa’s future. Ghost stories also abound around the island (Samoans are very superstitious). I accompanied a centre manager on field visits to areas of the coast wrecked by the tsunami, because she had heard those stories of taxi drivers picking up the ghosts of tsunami victims, was afraid and needed company. She also insisted that I keep an eye on the ocean as she barreled down the road. (Her fear, though, was well-justified by an earthquake which occurred during our trip. Fortunately, we were at a loan centre away from the ocean and the earth shook for only a couple of seconds.) Archbishop Alapati Mataeliga has declared that there is “great fear in the country.” Samoa is on edge.

Traditionally, Samoans view the ocean as peaceful and giving. They struggle to reconcile the events of Sept. 29. Many explanations are offered and discussed in circles. For some, the tsunami and the recent geological unrest in the Pacific are an affirmation of climate change and a wake-up call for awareness and action from the rest of the world. A low-lying island, Samoa is at high risk when seawaters rise and storms come. Many houses lie on the edge of the coast, which is ringed by a little seawall made of stacked rocks only three feet high in most spots. It resembles decoration more than a barrier. (Most of the seawall is privately owned and built, another reason of why it is so tiny.)

A typical house and seawall along the coast of Samoa

Reconstruction of the seawall near the wharf which was damaged. Note the demolished house in the background.

Samoans point to the hotter-than-normal weather, irregular seasons, and shrinking of coastlines in recent memory as signs that climate change is real. This is not to say that the island is curbing its pollution. Samoa’s air reeks of smoke and exhaust. Smoke pours from the many fires which Samoans build to cook (gas stoves are used only in the capital), from the mosquito coils that burn constantly to ward off the hordes which have made my limbs look like they’re infected with chicken-pox, and from the cheap second-hand cars, mostly diesel and models from older years, that populate the roads. The recent road-switch to the left*, which was implemented to increase the amount of cheap imports, likely second-hand, from New Zealand and Australia, only exacerbates the situation. However, Samoa is an island of only 188,000 people and few factories (though this works to its disadvantage on the job-front). It does not contribute much, in the grand scheme of things, to the carbon in the air.

Other Samoans believe that God has had a hand in these natural disasters. A devoutly Christian country, Samoa is dotted by many churches, which are oftentimes much grander than the surrounding houses, and the most of the island shuts down on Sundays. The tsunami has caused a few Samoans to question their faith. Last Wednesday, the Samoan Observer ran a front-cover story with the headline, larger than normal and bolded, “Don’t Blame God.” Some people say that the tsunami was God’s punishment on the unfaithful. They note that the tsunami hit the tourist areas the hardest—these were places that tourists and locals alike drank and partied on Sundays.

However, Samoans are happy people and already, the jokes about the tsunami have already started coming. We use the tsunami as an excuse for all the things in Samoa that aren’t working. Oh, the water in the house is cut off? Must be the tsunami. Slow internet? Funny, there was always high-speed before the tsunami. Samoans are also commemorating the tsunami in many ways. One week after the tsunami, lavalavas (wrap-around skirts which are traditional Samoan wear) were printed with the words “Stay away from the tsunami” or “Tsunami 9/29/09.” I saw a boat newly christened “Lady Tsunami ’09.” Parents are even naming their babies “Tsunami.” This last bit is not unusual, as parents also named their kids “Cyclone” after the twin cyclones in the 1990s.

Commemorative Tsunami LavaLava

Boat named "Lady Tsunami '09" on the left.

Samoa will never forget the tsunami. A month after the wave, the news and the people speak of nothing else. The government is just beginning to dole out the millions in aid it received from New Zealand, Australia, and international organizations. SPBD’s Cash for Work program, which hires villagers in tsunami-devastated communities for two weeks to work on a project benefiting the community, occupies most of my time as a Kiva Fellow. I’m spending my days visiting each of the villages affected, hearing the matais and mayors speak about the condition of their villages, and listening to the stories of the people whose belongings and homes have been washed away. I will be posting more on the Cash for Work program shortly.

Sneak Preview of the Cash for Work launch in Manono

Another teaser photo of Cash For Work

*As an interesting side-note, this road-switch has caused a dent in the prime minister’s popularity and is the bane of my existence on this island! Along with the road-switch, three new rules have been implemented: speed limit of 25 mph on all roads on the island, numerous road bumps to reinforce this concept, and closing of bars at 10 p.m. (And I thought Boston’s puritanical old blue laws were bad.)

Agnes Chu is a Kiva Fellow working with South Pacific Business Development in Samoa. Join SPBD’s lending team on Kiva and help us reach the 25 member mark!

My placement in Samoa was supposed to be a quiet one.  A tiny country smaller than Rhode Island, Samoa is part of the group of Polynesian islands that are usually associated with the words “dream vacation” or “exotic getaway.”  Samoa is located in the “calm zone” of the Pacific and the demeanor of its inhabitants follows suit; there is actually a term—fa’a Samoa—for the laid-back attitude Samoans have towards life.   Although the UN has categorized Samoa as a “least developing country,” it is well-known that Samoans are always smiling.  I thought I was placed on a beach—none of this catching-malaria and getting-chased-by-men-with-machetes business that other Kiva Fellows had to worry about.

The earthquake and subsequent tsunami hit Samoa the day of my flight from San Francisco to Apia, Samoa.  Although I wasn’t aware of it at the time, the tsunami had spared Apia, the capital of Samoa and headquarters of South Pacific Business Development microfinance organization, and it was the eastern coastal region and American Samoa that suffered the brunt of the damage.  The airline, showing us grimy pictures of the damage, advised all tourists to turn back, but nobody did.  I arrived at 5:30 a.m. the day after the tsunami hit and found SBPD’s driver waiting for me at the airport, on schedule.  The government had declared the day a national holiday, but at SPBD’s office, almost all of the staff showed up and continued operations as usual, working doubly hard to make up for the lost day.

Approximately 15-20% of SPBD’s borrowers live in eastern region of Samoa that was affected.  We still do not know the status of all of them.   When the tsunami came, bearing waves 10 feet high, many people fled inland to the plantations uphill and remain there with their families and villages.  One of the borrowers I spoke to said that she received warning of the tsunami by way of the screams of the village down the road.  She grabbed her three-week old baby and ran.  Her entire village is now crammed into one home, the only one situated on higher ground.  Of the borrowers we were able to locate, their damage, thankfully, is mostly material.  However, the extent of material damage is overwhelming.  Samoans build their houses oceanfront, literally 5-10 feet away from the Pacific (The beach is very small and sometimes non-existent in most spots of Samoa.)  The houses, called fales, are giant rectangular patios, with wooden poles holding up a singular roof made of sheet metal.   It’s the perfect way to enjoy the seabreeze.   When the water came, their belongings were swept away.   Fales, not meant to be sturdy, crumbled and some have only the concrete foundation remaining. Most people lost everything they owned.   Tourist fales are gone.  A wharf costing millions and newly opened months prior is damaged.  Samoans are shocked that such a disaster could happen—this is the first tsunami to hit Samoa.

Samoan Fale destroyed by the tsunami

Video of the damage at Lalomanu, one of the popular beaches on Samoa.  Many homes, as well as businesses for tourism, were completely destroyed.

The response to the tsunami has been a huge outpouring of love.  Although the disaster is contained to a small part of the island, Samoans are a tight-knit community and somebody always knows somebody on the other side of the island.  Many Samoans have packed boxes of clothes to donate through their church, a large facet of Samoan life.  Four different international relief agencies, as well as local businesses, have been dropping off supplies, including ice cream and popsicles for children.  SPBD donated 3,000 Talas to the relief effort during the telethon today.  The borrowers that I have met are fine for the moment and have shown extraordinary resilience. They are calm. Children laugh and giggle while cramped inside a temporary shelter.  I will never forget the first remark one Samoan made when I asked her how she was doing: “We have lost everything, but I am happy because we still have our lives.”

Samoan families use schools as temporary shelter. Children are receiving popsicles from Red Cross.

That sentence amazes me, because I have never seen poverty before and can’t imagine having little and then losing it again.  I get mad when I lose my iPod!  I grew up in a middle-class family in a big city and just a few days ago, poverty was only a concept discussed in the New York Times.  I joined Kiva because I wanted to see it firsthand and help.  The tsunami was more than I bargained for.  The impact is devastating.  My mind is numbed by wondering how these families will cope.  But they are.  I have been in Samoa for only a few days and I can see already how strong families are here.  The past 60 hours have been a whirlwind.  I have lost a lot of sleep, gotten bit by mosquitoes and cockroaches, and ate marmite for breakfast instead of bacon and eggs.  But I am inspired by the Samoan woman’s remarks and I am happy.

SPBD will be doing further assessment on the aftermath of the tsunami and I will provide more updates on the Kiva borrowers affected in the following weeks, as more information comes.  Please support SPBD by lending to its other borrowers here.

A picture captures a thousand words.  Here are a few thousand words from my past 9 weeks with Kiva Partner South Pacific Business Development in Samoa:

Beach in Savaii, Samoa

Although poor, Samoa has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world.  Bright, white sand, dotted with fallen coconuts and perfected by the sound of rolling waves make Samoa a good place for vacationers as well as for microfinance.

Rainforest

The beaches are complemented by large expanses of lush rain forest.  The canopy of Falealupo peninsula is particularly stunning.

Sunday Morning Fish Market

Every Sunday morning at around 5am the normally vacant stalls near the Apia harbor fill with fish venders and customers.  Very quickly it becomes a bustling place.  The smell hits you first. Body odor mixed with fishy smells, mixed with smoke from the barbecue stalls across the street and in the background the ever present salty smell of the ocean. Samoans gather on Sunday to buy fish in preparation for the tonai, a Sunday feast after church.  Everything edible from the sea can be found in the market –  tuna, barracuda, eel, parrot fish, octopus, sea slug guts (a Samoan delicacy) and seaweed!

All Dressed Up

Getting ready for church. 99% of Samoans are devoutly Christian, so Sunday is a very serious day.  Traditionally, only one or two members of a family are allowed to stay home from church.  Their job is to prepare the after church meal, called a tonai.  Everyone goes to church; no stores are open, no taxi drivers are available.  Church service is very lively with a lot of singing.  But there’s no designated choir; everyone in the congregation is also in the choir. Samoans amazingly all have really wonderful voices.

Manuia! (Cheers!)

For such as small nation, Samoa has a surprisingly large number of bars and clubs.  In other words, Samoans like to have a good time.  Every Friday and Saturday night these bars fill with locals and foreigners alike pining for a sip of the delicious local brew, Vailima, served normally in a 750 ml bottle.  To everyone’s disappointment the government has stipulated that the bars close by midnight.  This doesn’t mean the party stops then though.  Most people grab their last bottle or two and head to the sea wall, a small stone barricade lining the Apia harbor.

Maketi Fou

The largest produce market in Samoa, the Maketi Fou is always open.  It’s said that to have a family stall in this market is so prestigious that families members will actually sleep here to keep their spot.  Food stalls in the back prepare quick meals or a cheap snack and the place is almost always packed from sun-up to sun-down.  Around 25% of the food stalls owners have microloans from South Pacific Business Development, Kiva’s field partner in Samoa.

Manu Samoa

Rugby is Samoa’s most beloved sport.  Fittingly so, for every Samoan has the perfect build for a rugby player – bulky and muscular.  Here Manu Samoa, the national rugby union team, does the haka to intimidate their opponent, Papua New Guinea.  Manu Samoa defeated Papua New Guinea in this qualifying match for the 2011 World Cup, 115-7.

Fishing for the Moon

Samoa has the most beautiful sunsets and sunrises of any place I’ve ever been.  Consistently every morning is a collage of pinks, blues and yellows and every evening produces a new mixture of oranges, reds and purples.  With sunsets like this every day, I feel like the luckiest Kiva Fellow.

All Smiles

Kiva Borrower Selesitina Fatu is all smiles during our visit.  Thank you Kiva Lenders for increasing the number of smiles in the world!

Athan Makansi, KF8, is currently serving his fellowship with South Pacific Business Development (SPBD), Kiva’s Partner in Samoa.

A few days ago my grandmother sent me an email:

Athie,

Thank you for your updates.  I have really enjoyed reading them.  I was wondering, from your experience in Samoa, do you think poverty is a state of mind?  Also do you think the women borrowers gain a sense of worth from access to financial services?

Love,

Grandma Nellie

I love you too Grandma, and you got me thinking.  So here’s my answer.

Many Samoans do not think of themselves as poor.  No one is going hungry (in fact the large girth of Samoans is quite famous) nor is anyone lacking a roof above their head, nor clean(ish) water to drink and bath.  As my friend Tui put it, “You can live here without money.”  Food is in abundance.  For example, in the backyard of my flat there is a coconut tree, a papaya tree, breadfruit tree, wild green beans, and wild cabbage. Similar edibles are plentiful in most backyards throughout Samoa – and I live within the city limits!  Families outside the city can grow large plantations of crops.  Also, Samoa has an incredibly reliable and generous community system. Everyone looks out for everyone else. If you don’t have a home, a relative or neighbor will take you in.  If you have no food, a friend will gladly feed you.

But the UNDP ranks Samoa as one of the 50 poorest countries of the world. As I walk around Samoa I see many manifestations of poverty. Samoans don’t have all the TVs, BMWs, laptops, or other luxuries, that characterize the western world.  Many people dressed in faded second hand clothes from developed countries.  New clothes are quite expensive for Samoans. Homes are in poor shape –some are infested with termites, some have makeshift walls of tarps and plywood.  Samoa has poor health. The Samoan diet consists of very poor quality food.  Samoa imports the leftover junk food from New Zealand and Australia.  Almost all products are processed and canned.  Canned meat, especially corned beef is considered a delicacy.  Also, the preferred way of cooking is frying.  For such a small population, Samoa must go through a record amount of cooking oil.  Samoans suffer from diabetes, obesity and heart problems. Moreover, their quality of healthcare is quite poor.  Often, Samoans wait for hours and hours in line for their appointment.  Doctors’ pay, comparative to Western societies, is very little.  Samoa definitely lacks the benefits of a developed country.

And yes, Grandma, I think this poverty is certainly accentuated by a state of mind, an awareness of everything that Samoans could have but don’t, everything that is available in the western world.  As Samoans become more aware, through TV, the internet and other media outlets, of the luxuries available to the developed world, but not available to themselves, they begin to think of themselves as even more impoverished.  As an American I am immediately assumed to be wealthy.  Acquaintances assume I own a gigantic flat screen TV, drive cars like The Fast and the Furious and that I can purchase multiple rounds at a local bar without a dent in my wallet.  Because of the fantastical way the media portrays the US, Samoans become increasingly self-aware of their poverty.  Their idea of self-worth becomes diminished since they don’t have these luxuries.

This is where South Pacific Business Development (SPBD), Kiva’s microfinance field partner in Samoa, provides a great service. Microfinance has considerable power to change a women’s sense of worth. By offering loans, savings accounts, and (beginning in September) life insurance to lesser-income women they can change the borrower’s self-perception.  These women, who could never qualify for a normal loan through a regular bank, now have access to basic financial services such as loans and savings accounts just like people in more developed countries.  The benefits of these financial services here in Samoa go beyond simple monetary gain.

Financial services, most commonly in the form of a loan, emphasizes these entrepreneurs’ place in the community.  Whereas maybe without a loan they were homemakers, who raised children, and did odd jobs for a bundle of potatoes, or traded their leftover carrots for some noodles, now in their spare time they make a good to sell to the public.  This gives them a specific role in the community.  Everyone in the village will know that Siloma is the potato selling lady and Otilia is the lettuce lady and Muna is the coconut lady, and Faaofo is the firewood lady, etc.  The women have an identity associated with their role in the village.  This gives them a sense of enormous pride.  It also connects them to their neighbors. People rely on Siloma to supply potatoes and Otilia to supply lettuce.  Others in the village come to the ladies to buy their goods, mostly produce.  In many cases this is a good excuse for the ladies to chat and catch up on the village gossip.

SPBD’s services are not a cure-all for poverty.  Of noticeable absence in these entrepreneurs is a drive to get ahead.  Most women are happy enough to produce their one good and stop there.  Very few try to offer new products to sell, or seriously expand their businesses.  Maybe it’s a lack of knowledge about business management. (This is something SPBD will try to address.  In September they will roll out a series of classes on basic business principles.) Because of this, women can get caught up in an obstinate cycle of loans.  They take out a loan just to say they have a loan.  Having a loan allows them to come to the weekly SPBD center meetings in their village which often serve as a social event and it gives them certain delight to say they are financially responsible enough to be paying back a loan.  If SPBD’s success were measured by the number of smiles at a center collection meeting, it would be a wealthy company indeed.

Lend to borrowers from SPBD!

Athan Makansi, KF8, is currently serving his fellowship with South Pacific Business Development (SPBD).  For more information about SPBD, click here.

Kiva is about stories.  From borrower profiles and journal updates, we learn about individual borrowers all over the world and their struggle to work themselves out of poverty.  But, some of the people most integral to the daily operations of Kiva are underrepresented on Kiva.org. Rarely do we hear stories about the credit officers all over the world who actually disburse the Kiva loans. Here are some profiles of the credit officers at South Pacific Business Development (SPBD) in Samoa.

At SPBD, the credit officers are called Center Managers (CMs).  The center manager’s job is to collect the weekly repayments from each SPBD borrower.  Monday through Thursday a center manager travels around the island to different borrower centers to collect repayments.  Each center consists of between 5 and 35 borrowers, usually all ladies from the same village.  On most Fridays, the Center Manager stays in the office to disburse new loans, prepare paper work for the next week, and count a lot of money.  Last week I accompanied one center manager, Ela, on her daily rounds.  Here is a video of our adventure.

At SPBD, there are twelve center managers broken into three teams of four.  Three center managers – Ela, Mayvian and Jack – took the time to let me interview them.

Ela

Ela is one of the newest members of the SPBD staff.  She joined only 1 year ago.  Before coming to SPBD, Ela worked in American Samoa as a phone operator and went to nursing school.  After being gone from her homeland a few years, she missed Samoa and wanted to see her family again.  Now she lives with her family on Manono Island, one of the tiniest islands in the South Pacific. The smallest of Samoa’s four islands, Manono is so small no cars are allowed on the island.  Not even any dogs are allowed on the Island.  In total there are only 4 villages, encompassing an area of one square mile and housing a population of around 1000.

Her one year as a center manager has only piqued her interest in microfinance.  She hopes to manage her own microfinance institution one day or to go to school to earn a degree in business administration.  Ela is 29 years old and single.

Mayvi

Mayvian Popese, known by her nickname Mayvi, is 28 years old with 2 children.  She lives in Vaipuna, just outside the capital city of Apia.  While her nine year old son is in his fifth year of school, Mayvi’s other son, only one and a half years old stays at home with his grandfather, Mayvi’s father.  Her husband owns a security company.  He trains security guards for government buildings and hotels.

Before coming to SPBD four years ago, Mayvi worked three jobs as an accountant – Radio Polynesia, a computer shop, and the local cinema.  Now at SPBD, Mayvi was recently appointed team leader of 3 three other center managers.  She has been in this position for one year.  Mayvi points to a few frustrating aspects of being a center manager.  Dealing with “bad clients,” the ones who don’t pay on time or skip the mandatory center meetings, can be difficult.  The center managers get all sorts of excuses. “It’s hard to chase after them” she gripes.

Most parts of the job are really enjoyable though.  At SPBD, Mayvi greatly enjoys “serving the hardworking ladies of her own country.” Working with the ladies brings Mayvi much more joy than working with the clients of her previous jobs.  In contrast to plain bookkeeping, Mayvi tackles much more practical problems, advising the ladies with their plantation business or their general store.  She likes watching the businesses grow and witnessing the impact of her work.  Always with a flower stuck behind her left ear, Mayvi is quick with a smile and laugh.

Jack

Jack Elisara is physically the most intimidating Center Manager at SPBD. This 6’ 8”, 280 pound, former rugby player has been working at SPBD for just over 2 years.  Rugby is certainly his first love. Jack has played rugby in New Zealand, Australia, Italy and Samoa, including a short while on the Samoan rugby union national team, Manu Samoa.  Jack describes his role as a prop forward as the “toughest” position and he brings the same toughness to his work as an SPBD center manager.  Jack works hard. Almost always finished his work before all the other CM’s he’s the first one to start chatting to me about the latest rugby news or ask me about my weeked.

Jack is 35 years old, married, with 2 children.  His son, 6 years old, is in primary school and his daughter, 2 years old, stays home with Jack’s wife. Before SPBD, Jack worked for a year as a tour guide for the Samoan Tourism Authority.  As the Tourism Authority went bankrupt, Jack was forced to find a new job and discovered SPBD.  Jack loves meeting clients and hearing their stories. He likes working to support the community, especially impoverished women.  Many of whom he has seen become very successful, opening multiple businesses, buying new houses, etc.  Moreover, he values the SPBD clients as leaders and mothers in his country.  Since he still lives with his mother at home, he cites a special connection to these women entrepreneurs. He has a greater appreciation for their struggles to raise a family and also run a business at the same time. He hopes SPBD will “really boost” its clients, especially the lower income ones.

Overtime

All the Center Managers work 9 hour days.  Every day they are on in the office by 8:30 and don’t leave until 5:30.  In the morning they arrive and quickly prepare some paperwork for the day and collect their repayment books.  Everyone is out the door by 9:15.  At around 4:30pm, the Center Managers return from their rounds and the next half-hour will be spent swapping stories from the day.  Most of it is done in Samoan so I don’t understand it.  But, it must be really hilarious because the office fills with laughter.  At about 5pm, the Center Managers realize they only have 30 more minutes before the office closes to count up all their money from the day and finish any paperwork.  The chatter slows down and all I hear is the clink of coins or the occasional curse as someone forgot what number they were on. 5:30 everyone rushes home, eager to relax.

Ela, Mayvi, Jack and the other nine CMs at SPBD work tirelessly for SPBD and by extension for Kiva.  Moreover, they all have been have been very kind and extremely accommodating to me.  Kiva Fellows are often stuck in a strange role: in order for us to do our jobs properly we need to interrupt the daily operations of the MFI staff.  Here at SPBD, the staff takes time they would normally spend on other business activities to let me train them on Kiva processes or just answer my questions.  Some of the staff has voluntarily stayed later than 5:30 for additional Kiva training and everyone has graciously accepted me into their ranks.  For that, I’m very grateful.

Lend to borrowers from SPBD!

Learn more about SPBD.

Athan Makansi, KF8,  is a Kiva Fellow serving his placement with South Pacific Business Development in Samoa.

Jump on the Samoan time machine and watch as a few neighbors help prepare a delicious meal of taro, breadfruit, coconut cream, potatoes, chicken and tuna in a giant fire pit as Samoans have for many, many years.  But no, Samoans don’t make s’mores.

Talofa (Hello), from Samoa.  I arrived last Friday in the glorious sunshine of Samoa, eager to start my fellowship with SPBD, Kiva’s partner in Apia, the capital (and only) city.  Very quickly I became aware of a remarkable generosity between Samoans.  My landlord offered to cook for me, a taxi driver gave me a free ride, and all types of Samoans generously flashed a toothy smile my way.  In every instance of generosity I can’t help but let a smile sneak out in return.

My biggest smile of the past week came when my landlord, Margaret, and her son, Francis, welcomed me and her other residents with an “umu,” a traditional Samoan meal prepared in an earth oven.  A family or in the case of smaller villages, an entire village comes together to prepare the meal before church on Sunday.

The traditional “umu” process is quite laborious.  According to Francis, the chefs wake up around 6:00am to begin cooking.  They start by building a large bonfire and placing large rocks in the flames.  While the rocks heat up, the bananas, taro and breadfruit are peeled and washed.  Preparing the food is an art.  Expertly, the potatoes are chopped, the coconuts scoured into thin strips and the meats spiced.  Banana leaves carefully are stuffed with the coconut milk. Before church everything has been placed gently among the hot rocks.  Even though our meal was only for eight people, our master chef emerged from around the fire pit sweaty and tired.  It’s certainly no leisurely summer cookout.  The lounging comes later.

After attending church, Samoans return home to happily find their feast cooked and ready to eat.  For families it’s a way to catch up with the neighbors, entertain guests and show off your cooking skills.  Until bedtime, Samoans spend the rest of Sunday loafing about.  In proper Samoan fashion, we basked the sunshine, drinking cold Coca-Colas and letting our overstuffed bellies rest.

Athan, KF8 (Kiva Fellows 8^th Class), is currently serving his fellowship with South Pacific Business Development in Samoa.

I arrived in Samoa two weeks ago, and have had an interesting time since. I will try to not be too redundant with previous entries written by fellows who served in Samoa, so I won’t talk about the myriad churches, the beauty of the country, the heat and humidity, the crazy drivers, the fascinating state of poverty, or the kindness of the people. (If you haven’t already, I suggest that you read their very interesting entries by searching for “Samoa” at the top of this page.) Except, the poverty and the extent of the friendliness of the people here is so fascinating that I must write about it, even if it is in repetition. Hopefully you will find something unique in my impressions and interpretation.

Poverty here is intriguing because it presents itself in such an unexpected way. I haven’t been here long enough to make any judgments and pretend to be an expert (that’s next week), so here are some initial observations regarding poverty in Samoa. Although Samoa ranks 36^th on the UN’s Least Developed Countries list, that is far from obvious. People here are extremely nice, and it’s hard to imagine any hardships going on in such a paradise of smiles and helpful strangers. Also, there is a very strong extended family and community support net, which keeps the poverty hidden underneath the surface. Samoans would never let anyone sleep on the street or go hungry, even a stranger. They are very generous- and not of the sort that expect something in return, but of the sort that gives because they can. However, this social support places a burden on everyone’s resources. Without going into welfare economics, I should mention that the impact of this system on incentives for people to work hard has crossed my mind a few times.

The second stand out topic is the extent of the happiness and friendliness of people here. Although there is no way for me to tell for sure how happy people truly are in just two weeks, I take their constant smiling, laughing, and kindness as positive indicators. It’s so pronounced that you have to wonder what makes a whole nation so nice. Is it the History? Geography? Chance? Genetics? Climate? Let me illustrate this kindness with an experience that despite its subtlety, startled me quite a bit. A few days after arrival, I went to the immigration office to finalize my visa. There were two booths with clerks in each. One clerk was busy assisting someone, and the other was doing some paperwork. People were sitting in the waiting area, waiting, I assumed, for one of the clerks to become available and invite the next-in-line. I sat down, and within a few minutes, someone entered the office, and headed straight for the clerk doing the paperwork. After exchanging their greetings, the newcomer caught my gaze, understood the situation, and immediately invited me to talk to the clerk before him. Apparently the people in the room were waiting for something else, and I was supposed to have interrupted the clerk on arrival. Most locals in every other place I have visited would have taken advantage of me, never mind been sensitive enough to notice and consider my position. Importantly, I feel like this was not a fluke. Although most of my experiences with the kindness of people here are subtle and individually unimpressive, I am confident that anyone here would go out of their way to help me, even if doing so would send them in the complete opposite direction.

I came to Samoa not to be the recipient of kindness, but to help SPBD with Kiva-related processes. Over the last two weeks, I have been learning how the microfinance institution operates, going over their procedures and the new Kiva interface with the office staff, planning ways to improve their processes, and arranging excursions into the field to write journals. Still, I have not overlooked the fact that I have had the luck to be placed on this beautiful island. Accordingly, I have been exploring quite a bit, and yes, it is extremely beautiful. Upolu is one of the two main islands comprising Samoa, and where I have been staying. It is covered by thick greenery, exotically painted flowers, and white beaches riddled with palm trees. To my peers in Sudan and Azerbaijan, please take comfort in knowing that most of the beaches are occupied by coral. As my scraped hands and knees can attest, this makes for unpleasant swimming.

I look forward to discovering more about Samoa, especially the effects of microfinance and Kiva on the people here. This should happen when I meet borrowers in the field starting in the next few days. Until then, be sure to borrow a page from the Samoan way of life, take it easy, and know that no hardship is worth being unhappy for. I’m constantly reminded of the first sentence I read about Samoa: “If relaxing was an Olympic sport, Samoa would win gold.”

Outside the capital city of Apia, the matai system reigns supreme.  For many centuries it has maintained order in the rural villages.  Samoans attribute their long history without internal conflict and widespread crime to the matai system and the common culture of the people.  They note this difference in other Pacific nations which have experienced civil unrest between ethnic groups.  I would say that a lack of civil unrest is more a product of homogeneity.  The low crime rate, however, is directly related to the matai system.

There is palpable respect for and obedience to the village elders and matais.  This is a result of Fa’a Samoa (“Samoan way”), a traditional system of expected behaviors and responsibilities, which is interdependent with the matai system.  Hulking adult Samoan males turn into cowering and apologetic children in the face of an angry mother.  Of course, crime does exist in the villages.  Mostly, petty theft and domestic violence and abuse. Both difficult to thwart with any kind of legal system.

The matai system trumps the state system in the villages.  A vanload of police entering a village to enforce a law contradictory to the local matai system are potentially welcomed by a hail of rocks and turned away.  There is no recourse for the state.  No state law is effective without consent from the village matais.

In the capital city, though, the matai system is somewhat degraded.  And resistance to the police remains.  Take a recent fight between rival high schools.  It escalated to the point where a bystander was hit by a Molotov cocktail and the lone city cinema was destroyed.  The students continued to fight with complete indifference to the police. (In response, the state has banned ALL sports matches for ALL schools indefinitely.  An overreaction and counterproductive in my opinion).  To be clear, this incident is an aberration, but the mentality that drove it persists.

So it’s possible that a nation with the fewest formal laws and strongest informal traditions produces the greatest order.  At least insofar as the villages are concerned.  But in the most ‘developed’ portion of the country where traditions have diminished, crime is greater and a marginalized police force is expected to stop it.

The Deputy Prime Minister frequently states: Samoa is not prepared to sacrifice its culture at the altar of globalization.

Thus, it is disconcerting that in the capital city, where development has occurred the most while at the cost of some cultural traditions, civil order is the most difficult to maintain.

10. Rugby is life. American Football is called ‘American Rugby’. Though a Samoan-American is 40 times more likely to make the NFL than a non-Samoan American (thanks, ESPN), the more than 30 ethnic Samoan football players in the NFL, like Troy Polamalu or Junior Seau, do not have celebrity status. That fame is reserved for the Rugby players of Manu Samoa (National Team) and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson born of a Samoan mother.

9. “Mmm” means Yes. If you ask, was that a “yes”? You’ll receive another “Mmm”.

8. At times, no communication can be better than bad communication. I mistakenly relayed that I was married with kids when I first arrived through a conversation in broken Enlgish. Neither is true.

7. If you ride the buses, be prepared to have someone on your lap and make stops every 200ft due to no designated bus stops and Samoans’ aversion to walking.

6. As a foreigner, the only persistent dangers are the wild dogs and sunburns. Both potentially nasty. As a local remarked to me during my first few days here: “you are not made for this sun.”

5. If you’re raised in a village, you really have more like 20 mothers there to chastise you and provide swift corporal punishment in the form of a stiff rear-end smack at any time.

4. Only in Samoa (or perhaps Scotland) are four NFL linemen-sized men singing Madonna’s “Borderline”, in lavalavas (skirts), still an intimidating sight.

3. Walking along the side of the road is like playing a game of chicken with the passing vehicles. I am convinced they want to get as close to you as possible. When a driver provides ample room to walk (and live), I know it’s an expat driving by.

2. Your mobile phone calls are very short. No introductions, no good-byes. The result of per-second charging and exorbitant rates.

1. Your deceased relatives never really leave you. Many are buried on your porch or front lawn.

One would think the content of a conversation with the women of a village centre and one with the Deputy Prime Minister would be noticeably different. They are not.

When I arrive at a village centre, it begins with the standard introductions. Name, country of origin, organization. My information does not generally pique significant interest. Then it becomes their turn for a question: are you single? Do you have a Samoan girlfriend? At which point, I am told through some chuckles that all the women are single (despite the droves of children all around us).

No different in the DPM office. Except the children.

Immediately, they begin to call me “Benicio”, a lead actor in a widely-watched Filipino soap opera. Despite having no resemblance to him, each village, without fail, calls me by his name. Slightly troubling considering he is the reviled antagonist. Saying that this soap opera is all the rage is a great understatement. The country comes to a halt during the 3-hour, 3 times a week showing. With pirated copies circulating, there is no longer the dreaded break in between episodes.

The DPM, similarly, requested that SPBD’s General Manager, who is Filipino, purchase new Filipino DVDs during his next trip home. Though he unconvincingly claimed not to be a fan.

The DPM did raise some weightier subjects: the US Presidential Election and his own political controversy.

He was very well-versed on the Democratic Primary, and he even knew about each candidate’s most recent gaffe. I can not say who he endorses (he refused), but no one here seems to know that there is a Republican nominee.

As to the great Samoan political controversy rocking this tiny nation: the Prime Minister is imposing a switch from left-hand drive to right-hand drive vehicles. Coupled with a switch of the driving side on the roads. It has been met with near unanimous opposition: 2 protest marches and “Vote NO on RHD” t-shirts, signs and bumper stickers everywhere. The motivations for the change are not exactly clear. Here’s a shot in the dark: it has something to do with money. I am just glad that I’ll be long gone when that chaotic day comes in 2009.

Courtship, Filipino soap operas and RHD. There’s no escape from it here.

That dichotomy can be perplexing, so I decided to engage a Centre Manager (loan officer) in a conversation about it. One who stood firmly with the belief that all Samoans are poor. None of this should be treated as a final judgment. Far too early for that.

To paraphrase:

Everyone in Samoa is poor, he stated.

If I ask the people if they’re poor, what would they say? They would say that they’re not poor.

So why do you say that they are? What do you mean by that? No one sleeps on the streets. Everyone has a home. The community spirit in Samoa would not allow anyone to be sleeping on the streets. No one is starving. Food is abundant. Using these gauges, a passing observer might instinctively decide that there is no poverty at all.

Many international relief organizations define poverty as living on less than $1 a day. By that standard, Samoa is considered one of the most impoverished nations in the developing world. But if you travel to parts of India, Africa, China, you will see emaciated homeless, tangible poverty. But in Samoa, though many live on no money, they grow their own food, make their own clothes. Without even property taxes, they can live self-reliantly. Plus, smiles are ubiquitous. Everyone seems content with their standard of living notwithstanding the tribulations of any society (jealousy, greed, infidelity, etc)

I had to dig deeper into how exactly this CM defined poverty, so I asked from a different angle. How will you know when Samoa is developed? What are the indicators? Many Samoans do not have electricity or potable running water. When they have those things, we will be developed.

But is that going to make them happier? Maybe, maybe not. I surmise that the overall happiness is greater here than in most, if not all, developed countries. Is electricity and running water going to make Samoa a happier, better country? Maybe, maybe not.

(I will resist entering in the dispute over poverty and development and happiness. The enduring “what’s really best for this country?” question.)

So then no one is really poor?

When I walk into a village for the first time that is not a part of SPBD, the women are still smiling. It’s our nature. But once they enter the program, I can see a different smile on the women’s faces. Starting a business, earning money, making payments gives them dignity. Everyone knows about money. Now they feel they’re a part of that system. I come from a poor background. Like most Samoans, I had a sort of poverty of the mind. Belonging to SPBD, starting a business, gives them a purpose, a drive, a goal. Pride. As an outsider, you cannot see this difference in their smiles. I don’t work here for the money. I can make more money at the National Bank. I work here for them. For a better Samoa.

****

A cynic might say that this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. I want to feel good about what I do; therefore I will only see the good in what I do. But this CM, who I can attest to his blunt honesty, was only speaking with absolute sincerity.

SPBD’s stated mission is “to improve the quality of life of poor families of Samoa by providing training, unsecured credit, ongoing guidance and motivation to help the clients start, grow and sustain micro-businesses.” In reality, I would say that is the ancillary benefit. For this one CM, his mission is to fill a void of knowledge and purpose. Provide a sense of duty and accomplishment. Running water and electricity are the tangible outcomes of poverty alleviation. But in a country mostly content, the mission is increased dignity. Evidenced by a different smile that most outsiders will never be able discern.

]]> http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/04/12/the-true-mission/feed/ 5 nicholaswclark http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/04/04/agressive-friendliness/ http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/04/04/agressive-friendliness/#comments Fri, 04 Apr 2008 06:23:06 +0000 nicholaswclark http://kivafellows.wordpress.com/?p=455 ]]> I heard the claims before I arrived: “Samoans are exceptionally friendly.” It sounded simple enough; they must live with a tattooed smile and provide a helping hand to those in need. But, as I discovered, it is much more. Samoans have what I’ll call an aggressive friendliness. As I walk around town, the never-timid local Samoan will unfailingly pepper me with questions within the first couple minutes. All questions that I undoubtedly would be unwilling to answer a stranger in the US. And was quite reluctant to answer my first couple days here.

Greetings are always initiated by, “where are you going?” (“Over there”)

Then, “what are you doing here?” (“Working”)

Followed by, “where do you live?” (“Back there”)

And at some point, “what religion are you?” (“Is there a correct answer to this question?”)

Always concluded by the unanticipated, “do you want to come to my village?” (“Don’t you think we are rushing into things a bit fast?”)

In the States, a reflexive retort of “none of your business” (or often a less polite version) would be the common response.

These people could not possibly be that interested in my answers. They must be building information on me. Determining where I live and work. Luring me back with a false sense of security to their homes. I couldn’t suppress my skepticism and leeriness.

But after a few days, I realized my suspicions of their generosity were unfounded. Everyone asked a nearly identical list of questions.

The motives for their questions were much more innocuous.

“Where are you going?” is simply a greeting like “how’s it going?” Often, they don’t even care about your answer. If so, they are simply curious about where this palinga (white person – strangely translated as “from the sky”) was headed.

Where someone lives indicates with what village they are associated. In a country without street names and addresses, a significant way of identification.

The importance of religion needs no further explanation in this country that has more churches than banks, bookstores and restaurants combined.

On the topic of inviting me home, their hospitality is truly that powerful that they wanted to take me in. (Ex. Though not typical behavior, as I believe the man to be under the influence of an intoxicating substance, a local hugged me and gushed with joy of my visit to his country.)

In other hospitable nations, entering someone’s house affords you guest status. In Samoa, entering the country affords you guest status.

After a village expresses interest in starting a center (microfinance group), a representative of SPBD travels to the villages and provides them with a couple finely crafted program videos and a PowerPoint presentation to a very captive audience. Many of the villagers discover SPBD through local TV advertisements.

A Centre Manager (CM – loan officer) returns for four consecutive weeks to provide training on SPBD’s core concepts: business, weekly meetings, payments, savings and group guarantee. Group guarantee being the bedrock of this MFI. Each woman is dependent on the others to faithfully follow the terms of their agreement and must shoulder the burden if others are unable. This is where the Samoan culture of community and pride are especially indispensable.

On disbursement day, the women (as many as 100) begin to arrive at 8:00am at the SPBD office in Savaii. Some stay as long as 8 hours to receive their first loan. I’d like to say the atmosphere is teeming with excitement. I think, really, after 4 weeks of training, they just want their money. Many have had their skill (growing taro, fishing, making dresses, mats, etc) for many years. Time spent previously lounging in the fales (open air houses) is now spent more productively.

Each woman undergoes a final interview to guarantee her fitness in repaying the loan, understanding of the agreement and knowledge of her business. A wide grin and “fa’fetai” (thank you) are all that is needed to show their appreciation.

Now begins the standard 52-week loan term. Each week, a CM travels to each center to receive payments. Group guarantee is effectively enforced and followed.
Visits to the actual businesses is not often an option for a CM considering their very busy days. (But they are able to patronize them as customers during the nights and weekends.) During these center meetings while the detailed records are taken, I’ve had the opportunity to leave and visit the local food stalls, plantations and others. A retail location for many of the women is the Salelologa market where surprisingly no heckling and bargaining rarely takes place.

So the business and loan cycle continue for the next 51 weeks. Profits used to pay back the loan, educate their children, improve their houses, expand their businesses and save for the future. Prior to microfinance, opportunities never before realized.

I’ll be spending the next 3 months in Samoa providing you with my observations of the country, people and most importantly, South Pacific Business Development (SPBD), the MFI at which I’ll be working and to whom you may have lent.

I will not offer my impressions of Samoa until several weeks have passed and I can start to make some sense of everything. Otherwise, it would only be a collection of incoherent ramblings about a country of which I do not even speak its native language.

Many have asked where Samoa is located. Or more precisely, where in Africa it is. For the map-deprived Miss America watchers, Samoa is located midway between Hawaii and New Zealand. For all the other answers to general questions, go here: www.visitsamoa.ws

SPBD was started in 1999 by Greg Casagrande, an American and former Ford Motor Company executive. It’s one of Kiva’s original Field Partners. It is a Grameen Bank style micro finance organization serving those living in poverty in the Pacific Islands. It uses the group lending method and focuses on empowering women (Very effectively, I can already confidently add). Its first target market is the island nation of Samoa. The 48% of the population that the UNDP has declared as being food deficient.

For a 2006 NBC piece on SPBD, go to:
http://msnbc.msn.com/id/11328051/

One thing is for certain. Samoa is a prime setting for microfinance: minimal government interference or regulation, politically stable, low crime, liberated women, collective environment, wealth of microbusiness opportunities and, most notably, the need for it.

For anyone mulling over the impact of Kiva on the MFIs, look no further than SPBD. Thanks to the working capital that Kiva provides, SPBD was able to expand from the main island of Upolu to Savaii in the last few months. (Which, by corollary, offered me the opportunity to visit more of Samoa). And more islands are on the horizon, literally.

I will try to keep these posts as word-less and picture-full as possible. Seeing the benefits of your work is always much more satisfying than reading about it. Alas, my fellowship.

I’ve learned of the incredible dedication and hard-work it takes for the staff of a small MFI like SPBD to run its operations.

I’ve learned that despite their demanding daily schedules, the SPBD staff rarely shows signs of stress or frustration. I think I’ll have a better chance of mastering the Samoan language in my remaining hours here than encountering a similar work environment back in North America.

I’ve learned that I have yet to scratch the surface of understanding the complex Pacific way of life. The faa Samoa is a riddle, wrapped in a conundrum, wrapped in taro leaves.

I’ve learned how to snorkel, how to change a tire, and how to subsist on an alternating diet of corned beef and Yellowfin tuna. I’m not yet sure how useful that last bit will prove to be.

I’ve learned that, despite not having any international volunteering experience prior to this, I was able to survive for three months in a country many of my friends have never heard of before.

I’ve learned to appreciate how lucky I am to not have to worry about running water or working electricity. One of the great perks of travel is that it often provides a measure of perspective on your own life.

And finally, I’ve learned that that the loans made through Kiva are helping the proud women of Samoa to take advantage of their talents and resourcefulness. It’s been a real honour to have helped out in any way.

Tofa Soifua

Since it was being held early Saturday morning, traffic was light and only a brief police cordoning of the main road was necessary. I had the honor (and surreal experience) of marching at the front of the parade, right behind the main banner, along with the rest of the SPBD staff as well as the president of SPBD, Greg Casagrande. Because of the early hour, the spectator crowd was rather light, but the ladies sang and danced their hearts out nevertheless.

Once the tail of the parade arrived at the ceremony hall, it took a while for everyone to be seated. The venue was not designed to hold this many people, and the spectrum of colors from the ladies uniforms formed a sort of tightly packed rainbow in the cramped space. The packed seats, festive mood and wandering taro chips vendors created an atmosphere not entirely unlike that of a ballgame. The highlight of the ceremony was the keynote speech given by the Prime Minister of Samoa. He praised the efforts of SPBD and joked with Greg that even the prime minister himself has trouble organizing a gathering of the ladies of his own village, and wondered what it was about Greg that attracted a thousand women to gather in a single hall.

The ceremony proceeded with the presentation for the awards for the Centre Chief of the Year, Centre Secretary of the Year, Businesswomen of the Year, and finally the Centre of the Year. The presentations were followed by a song performance by the centre from Levi Saleimoa, the winner of the Centre of the Year award, and a dance routine by the centre from Nu’usuatia village. It’s a shame that I am unable to post the video of the performances due to bandwidth restrictions- the songs were especially fun and lighthearted, involving props and audience interaction. At the conclusion of the performances, a quick closing prayer was held and everyone rushed off to do their shopping for the upcoming week.

South Pacific Business Development is one of Kiva’s earliest partner microfinance institutions. With an entire staff of just 16 employees (including management), the institution covers over 2,000 active clients, whose loans total over $700,000. SPBD follows the original Grameen Bank model by administering its loans via borrowing groups. With very few exceptions, all of its clients are women.

My first field visit was to accompany Tafauga, one SPBD’s 8 loan officers, to a client group meeting at the Leauvaa village, where I was to take Kiva profile photos for members of a newly-formed borrowing group. As we maneuvered along ever-narrowing roads towards the village center, I glanced outside the passenger window and was strangely transported back to my early childhood. Hazy memories of my brief times spent in the rural Chinese countryside were stirred up as I watched pigs, chickens, and dogs roam free alongside the road. In contrast, the lush vegetation and towering palm trees provided an exotic tropical twist that I’ve never encountered before in my life.

We soon arrived at the meeting, which took place in a large open fale (fah-leh). Fales are the traditional housing units of Samoa, and are common even today among locals and tourists alike. Their lack of walls, external or internal, is designed to maximize the flow of cool breezes in the hot climate, but also neatly reflects the importance of family and community in Samoan culture. Makeshift blinds are used only in times of heavy storms, and wandering dogs and livestock regularly require shooing off during the night. I’m quite glad to be living in a western-style house myself, as it will take nothing short of a demolition crew to take my precious walls from me!

The meeting itself was a total blast. The ladies, most of whom were middle-aged, were extremely welcoming and had great senses of humor. The eldest among them were also the most outgoing, and they were completely unabashed in immediately asking me for my marital status. After confirming that I was single, they would jokingly flirt and titter amongst themselves in Samoan, making many off-color jokes (as Tafauga later told me). Meanwhile, I was running around snapping pictures, a goofy grin on my face, feeling like I was at a fashion shoot. Most of the ladies really seemed to enjoy having their photos taken, and I even had a few request for multiple shots, each one for a different pose.

Since my eye-opening first visit, I have been to several other client group meetings. These visits have been to accompany various loan officers on their actual payment-collection rounds, and I soon realized that my first foray did nothing to prepare me for these utterly grueling outings. Leaving the office usually just after 9am, the loan officers rarely complete their rounds before 4pm. Many meetings are conducted in fales with no chairs, where everyone is expected to sit cross-legged (it is considered rude to point your feet towards the center of the meeting). After a few accumulated hours in this position, I was having difficulty standing back up! It is amazing to watch only 8 officers cover over 2,000 clients around the island on a weekly basis, and I have gained a great amount of respect for their tremendous hard work.

After a couple of weeks of field visits, I am beginning to better grasp the island’s complex socioeconomic condition. Most notably, I was never struck by a sense of overwhelming poverty and destitution in the same way that many of my fellow Kiva Fellows in other countries have described in their blogs. There were no dilapidated slums, no starving infants, and street begging is extremely rare. The strong social support from tightly-knit communities, combined with the extremely fertile island soil and an abundance of livestock, has meant that the vast majority of the population does not experience the severest of hardships, such as starvation or homelessness. The literacy rate is at an astronomical 99.7% (due largely to the support of education by the church) and life expectancy is at 71 years.

Despite the lack of desperation-level poverty, the continuing prevalence of subsidence living reveals several deep underlying issues. The strong sense of community that I described earlier presents a truly double-edged sword. The same support system that takes care of the lazy, disabled, and powerless members of society also means that domestic breadwinners will often have to support large extended families. A system of communal ownership, combined with a lack of rewards for individual effort, can effectively stifle individual initiative and broader economic development. Fa’alavelave, lavish gift-exchange ceremonies that accompany weddings, funerals, and church openings, are great fun to attend, but can drain months’ worth of funds in an instance. At church, families compete against each other to see who can donate the most money, as the amount given by each family is called out and recorded during service. Often, families give more than they can afford in order to maintain their social standing. All these obligations tend to add up quickly, and many families struggle along life without hope of ever gaining financial independence.

Compounding the problem is that, like many other Pacific Island nations, the presence of poverty tends to be hushed up. Before arriving here, I had no idea of the harsh economic conditions. From my impression and conversations with locals and fellow expatriates, unemployment has been rising for quite some time, while the cost of living is steadily creeping up, resulting in more and more families becoming dependent on financial remittances from relatives abroad (total transfers having reached an estimated $57.9 million already in 2002). There has not been much effort from the government, at least from my limited perspective, to combat the problem. Hopefully in time, the proud island nation will realize that its cultural richness and breathtaking natural beauty cannot serve as a substitute for economic self sufficiency.

All of this makes Kiva and SPBD’s efforts all the more important. It has been so encouraging to see the spirited persistence these enterprising ladies as they seek to build a financially-liberated future for themselves and their children. I am truly glad to be part of it all.

Departing Los Angeles on a direct red-eye to Samoa, I arrived in the wee hours of the morning, weary and excited. The humid island air and a light rain were the first things to greet me as I stepped off the plane. I was later informed that my arrival coincided with the first signs of precipitation in several weeks. Since then, not a day goes by without at least the falling of a light shower. Fortunately, the onset of rain is considered an auspicious event, saving my journey from an ominous start.

You might be wondering if island life is all that it’s cracked up to be. Well, in a lot of ways, it truly is. The people are incredibly friendly and welcoming, the pace of life is nice and slow, and the beaches are just gorgeous. However, Samoa is far from a tropical paradise. Poverty on the island is real and apparent. According to the UN, Samoa is one of the 49 least developed countries in the world. Most of SPBD’s clients, before their first loan, lived on less than $2 USD per day, and 48% of Samoan families were assessed to be living below the poverty line. The pacific islands tend to be left out of the discussion when people talk about world poverty, but the islands’ struggles are very real.

The presence of religion on the island really made an immediate impression on me. I couldn’t help but notice the number of ornate churches, dwarfing all other nearby structures, populating almost every corner of every village throughout the island. Even at the airport, advertisements for local churches appear next to ones for mobile phones. Perhaps less traditional faiths are starting to make inroads as well, as I had to rub my eyes in disbelief when a large box marked with Scientology literature rolled past me on the conveyor belt during baggage claim.

Being of Chinese heritage myself, I was very surprised by the noticeable Chinese presence in Samoa. Throughout the streets of Apia (the capital and commercial center of Samoa), many restaurants have shops have alternate signs written in unmistakable Chinese characters. I was told that Chinese migrant workers arrived en masse before the First World War, during colonial rule (not sure if it was German or British then). Many stayed behind, started families, and have built some of the most successful local restaurants and trading businesses around. I tested out a couple of the local Chinese restaurants, and while it didn’t exactly taste like home (by which I mean Chinatown of course), it’s never a bad thing to have quick access to some fried rice!

Well, that’s it for introductions and first impressions. Until next time, Tofa Soifua!